His
generosity was legend, his creativity knew no bounds. There seemed to
be no problem he could not fix, no government agency that intimidated
him. Famous for wearing the bottoms of his trousers rolled, well-known
for asking the impossible of others and accomplishing the impossible
himself, John Krevey, waterfront entrepreneur, died suddenly on February
4. He was 62.

An electrician by profession, Mr. Krevey came to the waterfront in the 80s when his business, R-2 Electric, needed to expand. He

found
space at Pier 63 (23rd Street) before Chelsea Piers arrived. "There was
nobody there but the rats. John loved it," said Eric Green, his partner
at R-2 Electric.

In those days, Mr. Krevey had a wooden boat dubbed Useless. When Useless
sank, Mr. Krevey swore he'd never buy another wooden boat. Searching
through maritime publications, his attention was caught by a notice
about the 1929 steel-hulled lightship Frying Pan. In a sorry
state, it had been raised from the bottom of Chesapeake Bay and was for
sale. Mr. Krevey bought it, and, as only he could do, gathered a motley
crew of supporters and went south to shovel mud out of the hull and put
in a new engine. It took more than a year, but the Frying Pan
eventually made it to New York Harbor in 1989. And that was the
beginning of Mr. Krevey's love affair with historic boats, and his
efforts to open up the waterfront to the public.

Unable to find a permanent berth for the Frying Pan,
Mr. Krevey purchased an old railroad barge. He was "ever a
seat-of-the-pants do-it-yourselfer," said Betsy Haggerty, executive
director of the North River Historic Ships Society that Mr. Krevey helped found. The railroad barge became Pier 63 Maritime, now Pier 66 Maritime (above). Ringed with boats of all sorts -- including the fireboat John J. Harvey (another historic vessel that Mr. Krevey rescued with colleagues in 1999, below with the lightship Frying Pan
at Pier 66 Maritime), as well as the sailboats, kayaks, outrigger
canoes and a NY Water Taxi stop -- and bedecked with geraniums, a
tiki-hut bar and grill, and a stage for performances, the old railroad
barge became a lively waterfront destination. "Pier
63/66 Maritime was always a great concept of an eclectic mix of arts,
sculpture, small boating, industrial art, performance arts, cultural
groups, free public water access (always John's mantra), crafts,
maritime history and more -- all bound together and supported by
excellent food and spirits; okay, buckets of Corona," said John Doswell,
executive director of the Working Harbor Committee.

Government
agencies, from the Department of Buildings to the FDNY, were not
supportive of Mr. Krevey's endeavors. "He always had documents and rules
under his arm," remembered one supporter. "He was ready to argue with
any attorney, any judge, to prove that he had a right to be there."

Mr.
Krevey's battles about waterfront access and infrastructure with
government agencies -- then not as enlightened as today's administration
- were epic. "His enterprise had a tumultuous beginning because it was
not consistent with what other people, particularly the government,
thought the waterfront should be," said Roger Meyer, founder and former
president of New York Outrigger. "He was called Teflon John because so many of the citations he received were bogus."

Today, New York City is catching up to John Krevey's vision of a waterfront open to all, with the Bloomberg Administration's Waterfront Vision and Enhancement Strategy (WAVES) underway to bring life to the City's shoreline.

At
the time of his death, Mr. Krevey himself was seeking to replicate Pier
66 Maritime's successful formula at Anable Basin in Brooklyn and at the
Paint Factory in Long Island City, Queens. Acquiring the Paint Factory
property last summer, Mr. Krevey's first move, true to form, was to tear
down the fence that blocked access to the water.

John
Krevey leaves his wife Angela, his children Kyra and Kyle, a wide
circle of friends particularly from the worlds of the waterfront and the
arts, and a multitude of people who, thanks to his tenacity, creativity
and goodwill, have been able to make their way to the waterfront and
bask in the river breezes.

Photo above by Robert Simko

Remembering John Krevey

John was my benefactor.
He stuck with me. When I was out there for two years without seeing
another person, I would think of John and keep going because he believed
in me."

Reid Stowe, who lived rent-free at Pier 63/66 Maritime for years while preparing for his around-the-world solo sailboat voyage

It was 1997 and I'd been thrown out
of the 79th Street Marina with my outrigger canoe for not fitting in. I
was literally wandering the waterfront looking for a friendly face. I
came across this big barge that was a beehive of activity. John said,
'Welcome to Pier 63, you found a home. The terms are: make your club
survive. I will not charge you a penny.' That was the only deal we ever
had. Fifteen years later New York Outrigger is thriving. If your thing
was to bring life to the waterfront and you were a decent human being,
he gave you space. A strong waterfront camaraderie grew up there that
couldn't have happened anywhere else.

Roger Meyer, founder and former president of New York Outrigger

Nothing fazed John Krevey. One day, the Harvey
had to be moved, fast. Huntley Gill, one of the co-owners, climbed up
to the pilot house, Chase Welles, another co-owner, was in charge of the
lines, and John Krevey was in the engine room. Suddenly Mr. Gill
realized he was getting no response from the engine room. Mr. Welles ran
downstairs. "I opened the door and found thick smoke everywhere. No
sign of John. I crouched below the smoke level. Finally I saw John
ahead. I yelled as loud as I could, 'John!' He looked over, through the
smoke, smiled, and gave me the A-OK sign. Problem? What problem?"

Chase Welles, co-owner of the John J. Harvey

In heaven, he'll be breaking all the rules.
His accomplishments and vision on the waterfront are large, and his
generosity toward literally hundreds is legend. No one can fill his
shoes and our world will never be the same.

John Doswell, executive director of the Working Harbor Committee

John was a creative, persistent and generous soul
who not only breathed life into our harbor through his work but also
enabled the waterfront dreams and projects of so many others.

Roland Lewis, president/CEO of the Metropolitan Waterfront Alliance

He leaves us a great legacy -- and it's
not just about saving a rusty ship. It's that spirit of sticking to
your ideals, and creating a world where so many people are welcome.